


Scraping the Moon

by rabiosareads



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 10/10 would die for him tbh, Alcohol, Dry Humping, F/M, Overstimulation, Requited Unrequited Love, Sexual Tension, Smut, slight angst? i guess, soft!cassian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabiosareads/pseuds/rabiosareads
Summary: “What happens when people open their hearts?""They get better.”― haruki murakami, norwegian wood
Relationships: Cassian Andor & Reader, Cassian Andor/Original Character(s), Cassian Andor/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 64





	Scraping the Moon

There are various degrees of heartache. 

There are some forms that will fill your heart with bitter liquid, soaking your brain with harsh words and scalding hatred that twist your skin in its severity. There are some forms that will drown your throat, catch you in a spider web of your what-ifs, the rope to pull you to shore constantly bobbing back and forth between sprained fingers in teasing tension. The heartache that Cassian Andor felt was in the middle, constant waves filling his mouth with salty water but not enough for him to choke on. Just enough to let him settle on the taste. To get used to the idea of it. 

The heartache he felt had no true purpose or origin. It was manifesting quietly in his chest since the beginning of all of this, blooming across with every tragic step until it stopped on  _ her.  _ Maybe it was put on pause for his mercy, Maker only knows how much he could take. But it all got too deep, way too deep, and it continued to spread like a deadly fungus, until this point where he was left alone in the middle of this slimy cantina in the underbelly of some small planet that she had mentioned but he was too distracted to even remember. He let the amber liquid slide down his throat with a familiar tang, his mouth used to the bitter intrusion, watching the door with hazy eyes.

His fist peeled from the sticky bar top, settling on his bouncing knee. His head lolled to the side and his eyes rolled at his sudden realization: he was getting close to being drunk. That kind of realization where he felt his eyes cover in a glassy film, vision splitting in cloned images and fingertips were buzzing. Maybe the Twi’lek man wasn’t lying when he said that this shot may lose feeling in all major joints. Maybe it’s what Cassian truly wanted, not in the metaphorical sense that he assumed that the bartender was talking about. Regardless he raised two fingers, motioning him to pour another shot.

She was taking longer than usual. The liquor sloshed around in his acid, bubbling at the surface with a careful irritation, taking extra precaution to just not lash out in this packed cantina. Everything was aggravating him, from his bobbing knee to the stickiness of the  _ entire  _ bar, even down to the eyelash that seemed to not go away from his cheek. He stared at his hand that gripped the glass tightly, the pads of his fingertips adding such intense pressure he swore he could feel the glass warp from his heat and strength, shooting the liquid back with such force some of it splashed on his nose.

“Another one? Maybe something not as strong, it’ll catch up to you--”

“Yes, another one. Just keep it coming when I say so.”

The Twi’lek sized him up, his green biceps bulging at his equally intense grip on the hexagon bottle. He did as he was told and poured, a little less than last time to teach him a lesson. Cassian waited, gazing back to the door, spinning the glass to swirl the liquid.

His eyes finally gained bravery in the truth and followed the curve of the booth. Now to the worn leather of the seats, the split of missing patches exposing yellow cushion. Now to the back of the man’s head, blonde and long with corkscrew curls, bouncing from each twist and turn to her. His blaster felt heavy on his hip and his free hand twitched. He took his parka and placed it over the blaster, his gaze now a hardened stare. 

Her eyes never find his. They never waver the crowd like she would do, wide with a watering skittish film, until finding his, filling up with confidence. Instead they held what he loathed, what spiraled him to this point in some slimy bar with some slimy people and on a  _ slimy  _ table:

Tender. Gentle. Ardently, intensely, fervently, disgustingly lovely. A gentleness he had never had the luxury of experiencing. Withholding judgement, sweet like moon water, eyes that were accompanied by docile and flaccid hands that would gravitate towards his hot and angry ones, joined by words that always knew what to say and how to say them. Heavy lashes that would bat stardust into whoever was lucky enough to inhale it, eyes that definitely didn’t deserve to look into his steel ones, rough and cold like a freshly mined piece of coal, yet still hot with depravity, desperate to know how someone could hold such a comfortably oblivious outlook on a world that chewed him up and spit him out--

She blinked and her cursed eyes locked with his. A rising ominous feeling (any other normal person would say  _ affection _ ) rushed through Cassian’s chest and he relaxed into his glass just a bit. She went back into her conversation, raising her martini glass to her delicate lips to take a small swig. Her eyes switched back and forth in her head, wanting to look back at her partner but she stayed weirdly intense in what seemed like a one sided conversation.

He shrugged and raised the glass to his mouth, stopping at his cupid’s bow. Time and time again he was impressed at her espionage skills. She had the face for it, too innocent to be taken seriously and too intense to not look away. She knew the proper cues, when to quip up with laughter, a joke or to pretend to scowl in frustration. With this man specifically, it came off more natural, her movements more free flowing like the apple red liquid in her glass. 

She almost had Cassian himself convinced.

He waited for her cue. She had told him once on Yavin 4 before meeting an informant in the underbelly of Coruscant, standing on the tips of her toes to meet his ear.

“When I twist my earring like this,” she demonstrated, bouncing the long gold string back and forth. “That means you gotta get me outta there. Cool?”

He waited patiently. No, painfully. No, delusionally, maybe if his drunkenness manipulated his mind just a bit he could see it and give him an excuse to push himself up and stumble towards the booth with overly calculated steps.

She rested her chin on her palm. She tilted slightly, her high ponytail following her motion. She scrunched her nose at his bellowing laugh (“She’s being too nice.” Cassian concluded to himself). She lifted her other hand from her glass, flicking her fingers to her earrings, resting her palm back down on the table.

_ Cool. _

This time he took large sips of his drink, actually allowing himself to simmer on the stiff bitter taste, exhaling in the glass. He licked his lips and staggered on his feet, letting his ankles rock a bit, fixing his parka to stride to her. He tried just a bit too hard to seem sober, just to give himself confidence and give her reassurance that’s definitely got this, crossing his arms across his chest. As he came closer the knot in her throat dissolved, eager in her rapid blinks, trying hard to make it seem so obvious that she was expecting someone. She had wished he picked up on the signal an hour ago, when she was whipping her earring furiously, but he was so caught up in his annoyance (Maker only knows what for now) that he let himself to drown in the murky contents of his glass. 

She snuck a quick sneer at the man. He had spilled his secret Imperial supplier after his second drink (lightweight) but kept going on about her intoxicating perfume (easily seduced) and how if he could have the honor of taking her home he would, just say the word, oh please just say the word (desperate). She practically slapped her face with her jewelry before Cassian decided to dig himself out of the hole he was in.

She would have to hear about it once they leave.

“Ah! Cassian!” she exclaimed, her voice shrill and loose. He stood in between the couple, eyes focused on the chipped paint. Her gaze sank to the man’s hands, crossed together and decorated with large rings, to the tips of his frosty blonde curls, fluttering up to Cassian’s stern glare. She frowned at his seemingly fierce stare but curled a smile at the clueless man.

“Unfortunately I must leave you tonight,” she rose up, curling back when he tried to grab her hand. “My bodyguard is notifying me that I must leave. A man of your intelligence and care must understand that I have to go back to Coruscant and… continue my diplomatic duty. I hope our paths will cross one more time, just so I can have the honor of being graced with your presence.”

_ Oh, give me a kriffing break. _

He trailed kisses from her fingertips to her wrist and she laid limp until Cassian tugged at her free arm. She looked up at him, eyes slightly sunk in with irritation and fatigue, pulling her arm back from his grasp.

He curled his fingers around her biceps and pushed her through the crowd. She rolled her eyes at his actions. 

“ _ Bodyguard?  _ Diplomatic duties on kriffing Coruscant?” his accent was thick with the dangerous drink and temper. 

“What, I had to think on the spot,” she shrugged, trying to pry herself from his grip. “Mothma doesn’t give me much time to think of the next one--”

“You could’ve done better than that.”

“Aww, is that a compliment I hear Andor? Wait, wait-- hold on, Cassian, let me go, you’re bruising the merchandise,” she yanked her arm from him, squinting from the pressing headache he was presenting her with. “Seriously, what’s up with you?”

His lip was up in a small snarl, emptying his lungs with a sharp, frustrated hiss. He shook his head, his hair bouncing back and forth just to fall over his squinting eyes. “Nothing.”

“Nothing seems like a whole lot of something.” she analyzed. He offered her no witty answer, no splitting retort, just his silence and his lanky figure leaned up against the cantina’s wall. 

The nightlife on this planet was lively with its different citizens, their commonality being the liquor, Twi’lek baths, and never ending rounds of Sabacc. It was an okay change of pace from being chased in tight alleyways and dodging blasters but not when the other half of the party was stuck under his own perpetual rain cloud. And he knew it, he knew he was ruining the small sliver of fun that they could’ve had while there. Maybe sneak into another cantina, voices boisterous and spilling at the brim with dirt cheap liquor, maybe go and play a couple of rounds of Sabacc, betting the clothes off their back to only stumble back on the ship arm and arm, forgetting that they’re in the middle of a horribly bitter war. 

He seemed to have a habit of doing so.

So he let it fester in him, letting her take a wild guess as to why he’s so upset.

“Is it the mission?”

_ It has something to do with it. _

“Was it the informant? Please he couldn’t tell the difference between Bantha shit and a pile of dirt.”

_ While I agree with you, that’s not it. _

“Could you talk to me please?”

The tug on his sleeve made him snap his head towards her. Maybe a bit too harsh, with a bit too much venom, but nonetheless a hint at how he felt. “Nothing, I’m  _ fine. _ ”

That was the problem, however. It was nothing and everything. It was the fleeting hope that he felt escape his fingertips at every moment of this war, his bones chipping away at its abuse. The lack of seeing the horizon of it all, the lack of a golden expectation that she held in between her bright eyes and gleaming smile. It was finally catching up to him, an exhaustion past his age, fairing itself in his creased brow and corners of his eyes. His eyes, deep with darkness, soften at her next tug. She looked at him, pathetically worried, and his stomach flipped with a twang of regret for his hasty reaction.

“I’m having a bad day,” he tried to reassure her, looking away from her intense gaze. “We all have those, no?”

She let him go with a quipped brow. “I suppose so. Did you want to go back to the room?”

“No, no,” he answered quickly, waving his hand. “I’m fine. Let’s… let’s try and enjoy ourselves.”

“Sure,” she sneered playfully, raising her hand towards his face. He flinched at her quick action, watching her pinch his chin with her pointer finger and thumb. “Are you drunk?”

It was as if she flipped the switch on his awareness. Somehow the taste was heavier on his tongue, the film of the liquid down his throat, vision kicking back to that shaking, rocking motion, head so light it was floating off into the galaxy. He nodded no until he noticed how slow his head moved, a large smile creeping up on his lips. The smile spreaded longer and wider until he was left with his jaw slacked in an equally slow laugh.

“Yeah, just a bit.” he admitted, his bloodstream allowing him to forget the issues that bobbed at the surface.

She gawked at his reaction, slapping his shoulder. “Well! Look at you! I think we should hit up a couple of more cantinas, spend some credits. What do you think?”

He shrugged in agreement. He didn’t want to disappoint her.

* * *

It was certainly disappointing to her to see Cassian hunched over in an alleyway trying to hurl his contents onto the concrete floor. 

She leaned against the metal wall of a droid shop while her comrade continued to spill liquid and apologies. She watched her breath manifesting into a warm mist, swirling up, the back of her head leaning up to examine the sky. The night was slowing down into quieter crowds, the sound of throbbing dance music dulling against the sound of Cassian’s forced hiccups. As soon as he threw back the last shot, an oddly sweet neon blue liquid, she had to sober up quick. He was unusually chatty, accent thickening with each swig, going on and on about whatever grabbed his attention until he began to speak in a language she couldn’t recognize. 

Admittingly, it was amusing, but it sparked something warm in her belly. His skin was flushed with a sweet red color, eyes glazed and lazy, with the most adorably crooked smile she had ever seen on him. He would talk with his expressive hands and animation in his voice about himself, a taboo topic, about how he felt about the rebellion, about what he would do if they succeeded.

Just seemingly normal things that she wouldn’t have the blessing of knowing if he wasn’t in this state.

And with every word he said, every sluggish blink and flash of his teeth, she felt the warmth of this odd pool dip deeper and deeper. The feeling was always there, sparking at times where he exhibited some emotion of the passionate and happy variety, but still held back from the wall he placed between the two. It had begun as admiration, the infamous Cassian Andor,  _ the  _ Cassian Andor of the Rebel Alliance, the golden boy of chance, truth, and honor. Then, mission after mission, it went to Cassian Andor, the dick of a pilot, Mr. The Only Reason Why I Sit So Straight is Because of the Constant Stick Up My Ass. 

Then just this Cassian: soft yet strong, passionate, vehemently determined owner of the object of her affection. Not an icon, not a possible martyr for the rebellion, just a man that was painfully beautiful in his own right.

She reached out her hand to grab his cup, lowering her gaze. She leaned into his ear, bobbing back and forth a bit, her yelling making him wince dramatically.

“After this,” she jabbed his hand. “You’re strictly on a water diet.”

He waved the glass around and rubbed his eye. “Do you know what I like?”

She sat back in her seat with her arms crossed. She laid the glass on her lips and waited for his answer.

“I like talking to you,” he said, eyes widening when she rolled her eyes. “No seriously, you’re,  _ you,  _ you’re great to talk to. Converse with. I like it.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll take that water now, Andor…” she trailed off, laughing nervously. She didn’t want this to go in the direction she feared. Not in this state.

“I’m serious,” he leaned in, the tip of his nose dangerously close to her forehead. She dipped her head a bit and gulped. “You’re a great listener. I like that about you.”

Even with the slur in his voice, there was a hint of sincerity in it. It echoed off when he tilted his head, breath hot with strong liquor, eyes trailing down to her slightly agape lip. Cassian was a bold man but felt bolder at the sight of her equally flushed face, eyes wet with anticipation, almost tipping over the edge at the sight of her tongue coating her plump bottom lip. 

She felt the energy shift between them and felt that same boldness thickening her blood. “That’s all you like about me?”

He shrugged. “Among other things.”

She pushed her hips up, propping her arms up to cradle her head in her palms. She inched closer to him but stopped when he twitched, brows relaxed. He was still cautious but wanted to test the dangerous waves that he found himself in since she carved a home in his heart. That same bitter heartache, twitching his heart like a clock’s hands, waiting for the rejection. But it never came, the liquor coursed through him to darken his ears and neck with a crimson flush, sinking his chest in heavy pants at the sight of her batting lashes.

“What else?” she murmured almost to herself.

He scoffed at her question. What else? What, that he would stay up late at night, body flushed with anxious sweat, awakened by his nightmares, begging to the Maker that if circumstances were different he would scoop her up before sunrise and go off to the other side of the galaxy to be immersed in her? That she looked like a dream when the sun hit her just right, when she gleamed under Mothma’s praise, that he wished that he wasn’t this battling this emotional turmoil within him so he could be the only one to trigger that sweet and plump smile? 

Her face sank a bit at his tone and he realized that it came off a bit sharp, so he softened his sigh while snaking his hand up her wrist. He leaned in to rest his forehead on hers, his grip tightening a bit, gulping back a sliver of nerves down his throat.

Or at least he thought that’s what it was.

He coughed up the rest of his heaving contents, spitting away anything left over on his lips. He looked up for a brief moment and she sent him a small, apologetic smile, pulling his parka closer to her chest. A shiver of embarrassment waved down his back as he straightened his posture, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Better?” she asked, brows frowning in concern. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, grabbing his parka from her. “I should’ve listened to you about the water diet.”

“Yeah, you do have a habit of not taking my advice,” she smirked, reaching into her small hip bag. “Here. So I won’t have to hold my breath until we get back to our place.”

She dropped a tooth refreshing tablet in his hand. He shot it back in his mouth and chewed on the peppermint tablet, looking up at the clear sky. He stayed like that for quite some time, trying to find the words that were interrupted by his sickness. She was doing the same, squirming from the sound of her rapid heartbeat, watching as the moon’s beam cuts down from the sharpness of his jaw to his bobbing Adam’s apple. He lowered his gaze, head still up, jaw slacking back and forth from his chewing.

_ Maker, he’s beautiful. _

“Y-You ready to go back?” she stuttered, a cold rush on her skin. He said nothing and walked past her, steps heavy and long. She whipped her head to watch him zoom to the left and she struggled to catch up with his long strides. When she does she huffed, avoiding eye contact.

“If you want I can make you my infamous hangover remedy,” she joked, knocking her elbow into his. “My mom used to make it for my dad all the time back on--”

“No,” he sharply hissed.  _ Another slip up.  _ “I think I’ll be okay. Throwing it all up helped a bit.”

She chuckled at his response, stretching her arms to the sky. “That’ll do it. I think maybe I overdid it too, smelling that vomit really did trigger it for me.”

He shot her a glare until he rolled his eyes playfully. He rolled his wrists and kept them in his parka’s pockets, reminding himself to just  _ loosen up  _ a bit more. He twirled their room key in his hand when they reached the complex, their room’s light illuminating warmth from their cracked window. Thankfully it was kept outside of the town’s entertainment district, his head was pulsating the entire walk, so he wasted no time in clicking the key against the datapad to swing the door open. He peeled off his parka with a heaving sigh, throwing it on the floor, taking a long stretch to his bed.

She was still at the door, fumbling over her boots, watching him as he carefully placed his datapad on his lap. With languid movements he pressed the same corner, rapidly getting frustrated with its lack of command. She scoffed at his attitude when he threw it behind him and slammed his body on the bed, arms stretched out.

“You don’t have to log in your mission until tomorrow morning.” she said a-matter-a-factly. 

“It’s better when my mind is fresh.” he stated, rising up to rub his eyes with the heel of his palm. She sat on her bed that was on the opposite side of the room. 

“Yeah, fresh with what? Whiskey and spiced rum?” She took off her jacket and folded it neatly at the base of her bed. “You can take a break from the cause for a moment to rest too, you know?”

That was a regretful statement.

Cassian’s head shot up with a hiss of her name. She choked back her retort when he rose up and stood a few inches away from her, pointing his slender finger to her face.

“You may have the luxury of ‘taking a break’ from the rebellion but I don't. This is my  _ life,  _ I can’t take  _ breaks. _ ”

She shivered at his venomous tone. “Cassian, that’s not what I meant!”

“No I know exactly what you meant.” he spat, taking a step back. She rose as well, standing chest to chest with him, her adrenaline coursing through her.

“Cassian, listen. Please, just listen,” she grabbed his shaking hand to stop him from walking away. “What I meant was… was… that you just don’t give yourself a break. You’re always running around, scraping every planet and moon for this rebellion, and you don’t take the time to really look at yourself and just  _ breathe. _ ”

He let her words settle into his chest, breaths shaking from his comedown. She continued on, pushing back from the whiplash of emotion.

“You told me you’ve been doing this since you were six years old. Think about it, you had to grow up in this. When was the last time you really took a step back and readjusted yourself before heading back in? The man I saw a few hours ago, laughing and stumbling over his words, he’s in there and I want him back out.”

Her words fell into a whisper after her last sentence. It was more than she wanted to express. It was more than he wanted to hear out loud. The clashing of words that were left in her mind rattled in her ears, giving off a loud buzzing noise, waiting to see how he would react. She loosened her grip on his wrist and faltered her stare to the floor, waiting to watch his feet turn back to his bed.

He cupped her cheek with his lingering hand, then taking the other side, rubbing his thumbs against her hot skin. He placed his forehead on hers once more, lashes fluttering at her blushing skin. “I know.”

He grazed his lips on hers to gauge her reaction. She pulled closer and closed the gap, puckering at the taste, both tender and bitter, relishing in his gentle touch. He frowned at her taste, his chest blooming from the unhatched pain that he had held inside of him for so long, a pain that he manifested by himself from his fear of rejection, truth, a taste of her that he knew once he had he could never shake the taste of it.

He grazed his tongue past her teeth to mingle with hers, his lips now pressing hard against hers, one hand trailing down to settle below her ribcage. She rested her palms against his chest and walked him backwards to his bed, knocking the back of his knees on the bed frame. He broke free for a second to sit at the edge of the bed. She stood in between his open legs, lips red and raw, closing her eyes when his hands crept up her shirt to rub up and down her stomach.

He takes one out from under her and motioned her with two fingers. “Come here.”

Her stomach jumped at his action and nodded. He placed both hands on her waist to help heave herself onto his lap, parting her thighs with a prod from his knee. He rested his lips on her earlobe and suckled softly at the skin, hissing when she added weight on his hardening cock. The noise, so desperate and dangerous, made her hips roll slightly, trying to gain the same friction he was feeling under her weight.

His lips dragged down the dip of her neck, settling on a throbbing vein, nipping at the raised skin. She yelped at the sensation of his sharp teeth, rolling her hips against him, sighing into the sensations she was sending to her clit. She rolled her head back to allow him to continue to kiss into her neck, his tongue hot and slick to soak up her natural perfume. He settled his hands on her hips to help guide her, starting off in circles and then back and forth, the base of her skin shivering from the heat seeping from his touch.

She began to sweat from the build up, her panties soaked through and possibly onto his lap, nostrils flexing from her labored breaths. She hadn’t realized how touch starved she was until he kneaded his palms into her shirt, aching for his tanned skin to bless hers, lips now settling on an exposed collarbone. She pulled back, much to his dismay, to peel off her shirt, leaving him to gape at the sight of her breasts heaved upwards in her bra. He did the same and removed his shirt, balling the material in his hand when she snapped her hips at the right angle against his aching cock. He groaned, latching onto her sternum, her skin raw with his stubble rubbing slowly back and forth. 

She thanked the Maker that her leggings were thin enough to feel the throbbing blood through him, adding to the growing sensation budding from her gathering of nerves. She felt warm everywhere, curling her toes when her core pumped more warmth against their clothed bodies. It felt childish at first but she chased that high, gasping when his mouth suddenly kissed the top of her breasts. She picked up speed and he grumbled something in his language, hands shaking behind her to remove her bra. 

“Maker…” she trailed off, licking her lips to bring him back up for a kiss. His hands came back forward to grope and roll her bare breasts in his large palms, shivering at the sensation of her pebbling nipples. She threw her arms around his neck and carded the base of his hair, gripping at the dark tresses, groaning into his mouth when he looped one hand around the curve of her bottom. 

It was already building inside of her from the constant attention and he figured it from her hips snapping with more rigorous pressure. He tapped her hip to raise up.

“Stand up,” he murmured, placing a quick kiss on the top of her lip. “Let me look at you.”

She nodded shyly and clenched her thighs at his traveling eyes. He drank her in, from the push of her arms underneath her bare breasts, to the curve of her belly, to her clothed thighs. He looked up at her with worshipping eyes, watching as she fluttered at his knuckles grazing her scorching skin to pull down her leggings. She kicked them off her ankles and carded her hands through his hair again when he bent his head to kiss her belly button and pelvis. 

She kept pressure on her throbbing clit in careful pleasure at the sensation of his traveling tongue, leaving a trail of saliva towards her protruding hip bone. He found careful discolored scars, rubbing them with his thumb before looking back up.

“You’re beautiful. Do you know that?” he whispered into her belly, sizing her ass with slow circles. She parted her thighs slightly when his hand danced alongside them, face flushing a deeper crimson color at her warm slick against the cool air. They could stay like this forever, endless touches leaving behind scorched memories, embedding another scar that they could look upon and feel everything else but the sadness and anger of the other ones. “You feel so good, too. Like your body was made for me.”

“Cassian…” she began before he parted her legs a bit more with his wiggling hand. He took his middle finger and stopped at the beginning of her slit.

“Hmm? What is it, my sweet, tell me.”

The pad of his middle finger takes its time rolling sluggish circles on her aching clit. She lets a small moan escape her lips, the touch overly sensual in its languid pressure. Cassian licked his lips and kept that same molasses-like movement, adjusting his cock his hand.

“K-Keep-- _ fuck-- _ oh Keep…” her mind was fried at his careful movement and eager eyes eating at her desperately quivering lip.

“You feel good? Do you like it when I touch you like this?” he inquired, his face still and hard. He was surprised that his words flowed out of him, he imagined himself to be a blubbering mess at the sight, smell and touch of her, but he knew each step would have to be carefully calculated. This was something to be burned in his mind in case it wouldn’t happen again.

“Mmhm,” she agreed, eyes fluttering open and closed. “You feel so  _ good _ .”

His tongue felt heavy on the roof of his mouth. He gritted when he picked up his pace, his mouth mimicking hers, falling open with harsh pants. She clenched her thighs around his hand, stilling his movement. She motioned her eyes to his tightening pants. He removed his hand and raised his hand to her mouth. “Suck.”

She took his finger in between her lips, moaning at the taste of her cum, bobbing her head back and forth to prove her eagerness. He popped it out of his mouth, and took his shaking hands to pull down his pants and boxers. His hard cock laid against his lean stomach, red and leaking. His stomach caved in as she took him into her hand, giving the same lazy pumps he gave to her clit, swallowing harshly at the sight of his precum leaking from his head. He scooted his body back and she followed, still pumping him, leaning on his forearms. 

His eyes were heavy beneath his long lashes when she swung her legs around his waist. She placed careful hands on his chest and kissed him deeply, scratching her nails down his chest. She aligned her hips to the head of his cock, gasping when he helped her slowly settle into the groove of it. He groaned long and deep as the warmth of her core enveloped him, his hand leaving to settle on her hip. 

She took her time to adjust to his girth, moving her hips to gain a momentum to settle into. She sat upright and took his hands to settle on her ribcage, feeling each ridge of her bone protruding from her stretched skin. She sank deeper and deeper until she felt the hilt hit against her, immediately rolling her hips in a circle. Her moan came out pathetically loud and so did his, closing his eyes to bask in her hot embrace.

Her brows were scrunched up at the middle of the sensation of his traveling hands, clit brushing up between their contact and his cock slicking in and out of her with ease. She was afraid to continue to moan, afraid to seem so  _ eager  _ in her own selfish pleasure. He noticed this and opened his mouth to whisper. “If it feels good, my sweet, I want to hear you.”

She whimpered at his shameless prompt, heeding to his command when he slowly

thrusted upwards to meet her rolling motion. He hit the most sensitive part of her which granted a quick cry, biting her lip to suppress the disparity in the chase. He pinched one of her nipples in his hand and watched her eyes snap open.

Cassian was a sight to see.

She had never seen his skin so rushed with blood and sweat, painting it with a beautiful flush of pink. His mouth was wide open with quick pants and clipped moans, husky in its baritone seduction, his hair slightly damp on his forehead. His lashes laid against his cheeks, irises blown out from his lust, the moon light bathing him in the same radiating beauty as what was displayed in the alleyway.

_ Maker he’s beautiful. _

_ Oh, Maker, he’s so  _ fucking  _ beautiful-- _

“Cassian,” she began, halting his thrust. She curled her fingers against his skin and leaned back, allowing a view of his cock slipping in and out of her. Her torso is elongated and damp, hair curled at the ends. She threw her head forward when she licked her own fingers, trailing down her hot skin to stop at her clit. “Gods, Cassian, you’re so  _ beautiful. _ ”

He stuttered a moan at her compliment and the sight. She rubbed circles on her clit, rolling her hips back and forth, pulling her lip between her teeth. He halted her again to take over, snapping his hips inside of her to match the rapid movement of her fingers on her clit. It was all too much for the two of them, the sight of each other lovely in its lustful right. He heaved her forward to wrap his arm around her, flipping her on her back. She squealed at the sudden movement. 

He grabbed her calves and placed them on his shoulders, lining himself up to snap back inside of her with ease. She gasped a gutteral hiccup at the sudden force, falling back into her mess of noises that blubbered together. Her hand went back to her clit until he selfishly ripped it away, replacing it with his, watching himself with bashful eyes at the sight of his cock pumping in and out. 

“C-Cassian, Maker, you feel s-s-o  _ good, _ ” she cried, clenching her eyes closed. “You feel so,  _ fucking _ , good…”

Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes at her impending orgasm, hot and heavy like lava, bubbling at the surface. Now it was his turn to unravel, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down from his rising moans, fingernails digging into her thighs. The sound of their skin slapping with feverish cracks filled the air, as well as their tangled words, tasting the air as the alcohol left their system to mingle into the humidity.

Her climax came quick and white-hot, cracking into the air like lightning, leaving behind its impact at her jerking body. He held her firm when her core clenched around his cock, watching her head thrash back and forth as he fucked her through her climax. He reached down and placed messy kisses along her jaw and lips, his fingers swiping her clit with quick speed.

“I know you have one more in you, let me hear it,” he encouraged, shushing her when she whimpered in protest. “Come on,  _ fuck,  _ you look so pretty like this, let me see  _ one more-- _ ”

She constricted once more around him and his orgasm ripped through him due to her vice grip. He groaned loudly against her neck, his thrusts now messy and quick, gripping her hip to stay somewhat on course. Hers comes up quick like the first one, however it stung with a blissfully painful pump, hot lava now spilling out her skin. Her moans couldn’t come out from her closed throat so she settled on hiccups.

Their comedown was slow and syrupy, Cassian remaining inside of her to ride them both out. Their breaths were deep, gulping great gatherings in their lungs, Cassian’s body lying gently on top of hers. She held him in his arms, shivering at the sensation of his cock softening inside of her, overwhelmed by each inch of his skin against her. He pulled her body closer, slowly slipping out, his cock lying between the two of them. He turned to his side, scooping her to tangle his legs with hers, fingers finding purchase in her damp scalp. He kissed her forehead and tasted her skin.

A giggle erupted from his lungs, vibrating in his chest. She kissed his sternum and laid her temple against it. “What is it?”

“You,” he breathed. “You think I’m beautiful.”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Andor.” she groaned, giggling along with him.

“No, no,” he disagreed, tightening his grip around her waist. “I’ll merely use leverage against you when needed.”

She gave him a weak laugh, settling her lips back on his chest. “Don’t try it.”

The heartache melted into the air, the storm inside of him calming down with a salty haze of seasalt. He didn’t bother to acknowledge the stopped drips of pain. He didn’t bother to let it manifest again. He reveled in the new swelling of his heart, watching as her hair lightened from the moon’s sweet beam. 

**Author's Note:**

> Clearly my type is the holy Space Latino trio haha
> 
> Any and all love is appreciated!!


End file.
